For the best
by Laura 001
Summary: Prequel to Surprise - as requested by my awesome reviewers. The war has ended and it's time for Hermione to set out to live the life she deserves, unshackled by Ron. Happy reading and please review!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer - JK Rowling owns Harry Potter etc - please don't sue me!**

**NB: This is a prequel story to 'Surprise'.**

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**Chapter 1 - Ron is an twat**

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The war had ended in a battle that ravaged magical Britain.

Albus Dumbledore had come out of hiding (to the delight of Harry Potter, who had thought Severus Snape had murdered the old headmaster), explaining it as his masterful plan, which he cajoled Snape and Draco Malfoy to assist with.

It came to light that the Malfoy family had been spies for the light during the final two years of the war – Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy turning from Voldemort when he forced their son to join the Death Eaters in punishment for Lucius's failure at the Department of Mysteries.

In the aftermath of the final battle, Hermione Granger had accepted Ron Weasley's promises of comfort, support, and love, and the two had started dating, as had Ginny Weasley and Harry. The former pair's partnership was often tested by Ron who did not like the other wizards still vying for Hermione's attention - wizards circling her like vultures hoping to date her for their five minutes of fame.

Hermione had repeatedly told Ron that she had always been and would always be faithful to her partner, to which he would always respond with 'Then how about we start a family and show them your commitment to me?' This response always made Hermione tingle with nervousness, and she would explain to Ron that she was resolved to not even start thinking about having children until she was in her late twenties.

Despite the attempted hangers-on and Ron's occasional declarations of the need to start a family, Hermione's life was perfect and she was full of life - living in the triumph of victory, being in love, laughing, and happy with the world at her feet.

There were weeks of celebrations and honour balls and, while Hermione had quickly grown tired of the outings and press, she was keen to enjoy the happiness and relief perpetrating all the events.

Reality eventually set back in as the hype dissipated, and she soon discovered that if things seem to be too good to be true, they probably are.

In the aftermath of the war, it became apparent just how much so many had lost; friends, family, homes, and businesses had been traded in for horrific physical and mental injuries. While the Weasley family (cousins and all) had survived, they were one of the few whole families. The death toll was finally announced and it was high. Very high.

Tensions among the survivors began to rise due to remanent feelings from the war, competition to survive, and plain stubborn or immature antics. It was common to hear verbal abuse in the streets between individuals, to watch broken businesses closing down, to see neglected and orphaned children on the streets.

The trials started absorbing much of her spare time as she was summoned as a witness over and over again. The charges and convicts became a blur in her mind, and she wondered (at the accelerated pace of it all) how the court officials were able to separate the cases. She was never questioned by a defence lawyer, which surprised her. But then again, as Harry had pointed out to her, processes were so different in the wizarding world that perhaps this was normal. She sometimes got a niggling feeling of worry at this seeming lack of due process and representation; a situation which was a petri dish for blooming corruption.

She was definitely surprised when she learnt some of the verdicts from _The Daily Prophet_ announcements, most particularly the condemnation of Lucius Malfoy. The wizard was sentenced to life in prison despite being a spy for two years and contributing to significant wins for the light. The man's son and wife had left Britain, presumably having being cleared of charges. Having never been required as a witness to trials for Narcissa or Draco, Hermione readily accepted they must have been released immediately.

After the trials were concluded, Hermione finally had time to think about what she wanted to achieve in her life. All those who should have graduated in her school year were given honorary NEWT certificates based on their OWLs. Hermione had been somewhat disappointed by the E for Defence against the Dark Arts, especially given she had just helped defeat a Dark Lord, however managed to shrugged it off…eventually.

She decided to work for the Ministry to try and help put magical England back together and make it once more a glorious magical hub. However she found that when she applied for jobs, she was faced with blockade after blockade; something she had definitely not expected. While she didn't have a huge ego, she was a famous war heroine and labelled as the 'smartest witch in a generation'.

When she asked 'Why didn't I get the job?' she received the frustrating response, 'The other candidates have more experience than you.'

She quickly redirected her exasperation at this response to determination to achieve the necessary experience. She worked as a volunteer and studied even more than she had at school (except perhaps third year); it was an exhausting workload.

It was another few months before a snooty interviewer had responded with, 'Well, apart from your obvious lack of experience in this world, inability to understand the issues, and glory‑hungry desperation, I wouldn't waste the time training you so you can take an indefinite leave of absence at the Ministry's expense to raise a hoard of little brats,' that she realised the closed doors were from a mixture of dislike of her (given what she had accomplished in the war and the resulting losses for others who had been sympathetic to Voldemort) or due to her meddling boyfriend, Ron.

Apparently, he had been visiting her future employers and feeding them false information. First, he would say that he planned to marry her shortly and she would not be working after that; too busy raising his children and being a traditional wife. And when that did not work, he began saying she was not loyal, having abandoned Harry during the war (that was Ron, thank you very much) and was under investigation by the Auror Department for giving secrets to the Dark Lord's side (which, of course, was ridiculous.)

Either way, he had gotten what he wanted - a girlfriend with no job who had to rely on him for, what he hoped, would be companionship and support.

Well, almost.

He seemed to have forgotten she still had muggle friends, as well as a sizable bank account from smart investing during school – her parents had taught her how to invest the money she earned during the school holidays.

Hermione had always been independent and the lack of work infuriated her. Add to that Ron's lying, sneaking part in her lack of job… well she was less than impressed.

Hermione knew she had to face him, but she waited until she had absolute proof of his selfish deceit, it was disappointingly easy to find the evidence.

Hermione then waited for him to come home so she could have an explanation directly from him and set him straight about just how unacceptable his actions were.

She sat waiting in the lounge room for him. The proof of documents and pictures spread across the coffee table in front of her as she sipped a tea laced with a vial of calming potion, another waiting for Ron (having inherited the infamous Weasley short temper fuse).

She heard the door swing open with a loud thud and then Ron's loud outdoor voice sounded through the house, "Mione, you here?"

Sighing at the nickname, she called back, "In the lounge room, Ron, can you please come in?"

She heard him rummaging in the kitchen before he appeared in front of her, a bottle of pumpkin beer in hand.

"Nothing's cooked Mione. Are you ordering take away?"

"Dinner will have to wait, there is an important discussion that we need to have."

In truth, Hermione hadn't completely trusted herself to cook without spiking him meal with something in retaliation for the job sabotage.

"Mione, I work hard every day," Ron said in a whiney tone, "the least you could do to help out is have dinner ready when I get home."

Hermione flushed in anger at the dig at her lack of employment. Willing the emotion back down, she simply said, "I've made you a cup of tea, it has a calm draught in it. I think you should drink some so we can have a conversation."

"Tea? Nah, I'll drink my pumpkin beer. So what do you wanna talk about? Wanna finally give up looking for work?"

"I do not want to give up looking for work, but it is work I want to talk about," Hermione replied, eyeing Ron's quickly disappearing beer and wishing he had drunk the tea instead of the depressant.

"I've had a long day, Mione -"

"I've asked you not to call me that," Hermione cringed.

"Well, it's _my_ name for you. Only I call you that and no one else. It works as it sounds like 'my own', which is what you are, and I'm not changing the pet name."

"You don't _own_ me, Ron," Hermione frowned, having never made that connection before; she just thought Ron was being his usual lazy self by shortening her name.

"Yes, I do. You're mine. I'm the only one who would date an unemployed frump like you!"

"I'm only unemployed because of you, you selfish idiot," Hermione retorted, hurt and betrayal lacing her voice.

"What're you talking about?" He asked in a patronising tone.

Hermione took a calming breath, which did nothing to reduce the anger coursing through her at Ron's nasty accusations.

"I'm talking about this," she said, pointing to the documents and photos in front of her, "you sabotaging my job interviews with lies."

"I never lied, _Mione_."

"Oh, so I suppose I was the coward that left Harry alone in the woods during the Horcrux Hunt? Oh wait, sorry, that was you that ran off with your tail between your legs."

"Of course you did -" Ron growled.

"God, you're pathetic, putting your own failings on me. Why?"

"You should take that on yourself. You should be supporting me, not wondering around with your know-it-all nose in the air when it's not in a damned stupid gigantic book."

"Supporting you! Supporting you is not covering for you at my expense. Supporting is standing by you while you face the music. Wanting me to cover for you just shows me how little you care for me over your own reputation. Heaven forbid the reporters leave you alone for a day." Ron loved the press writing articles exulting over his heroism and Ron was often telling war stories to help this along.

"No, you would admit it if you loved me."

Hermione paused for a moment, trying to regather her wits from his shockingly stupid statement.

"Don't you dare try to put this on me when you were the one who left. I have nothing to admit. They are your actions to live with. Stop the lies, and takes some responsibility for once in your life."

"You're wrong, and you should feel ashamed of yourself!" Ron cried out, throwing his arms in the air and pacing back and forth, annoyed she wasn't just agreeing with him.

Hermione snarled at his continued attempts to manipulate her for his benefit.

This conversation was not going how she had hoped. Ron was proving to her that he was most definitely not the man she thought he was, and that the sabotage had been thoroughly premeditated. With startling clarity, she realised he was just a boy; a cruel, selfish, and manipulative boy. Before he had arrived home, she had hoped to salvage their relationship, however now it was clear she needed to get away from him and this relationship. Forever.

"I do _not_ appreciate your attempts to manipulate me, _nor_ do I appreciate your lies. I'm _not_ a traitor, I _never_ left Harry, and I most certainly would _not_ have given up my job to raise a Quidditch team of red haired children."

"That's right you never left Harry because you're in love with him, you're just trying to get me and Ginny out of the way before you can get your spiteful claws into him! And I don't care what you _appreciate_, you frigid cow. You are a waste of space and _no one_ else will ever want a boring, dull bitch like you, I'm your only option, so you had best learn to respect your betters."

His bitter words were like a punch to her gut. "Firstly, I love Harry like a _brother_ and have absolutely _no_ desire for a romantic relationship with him. Secondly, I would rather be on my own than stay with you!" she bit back coldly.

"Well, too bad, _Mione_. I'm not letting you go. Now, to make up for your horrid behaviour, I insist you change into something more appealing. At least your clothes could be nice since you are so disgusting to look at, and cook me dinner. And this time perhaps you can make the sex this evening good. Merlin knows you're terrible at it!"

Hermione scoffed at him. Had she entered the Twilight Zone? "Are you out of your mind?! I'm not doing anything you say."

"You will, you bitch, and those children will be brought up to be proper traditional wizarding adults, unlike you. In fact, I picked up a fertility potion –"

"WHAT!"

"- from Mum on the way home, she says I'm right and we need to start my family now, and you must give up all thoughts of working while raising my children. You can't be a good mother and work, it just shows what an unloving person you are."

"_How dare you say I have to give up work to be a good, loving mother! _Are you an idiot! Oh wait, of course you are. One day, a long time from now, I will be a _great_ mother while raising children with my _loving_ husband, someone who will be vastly different from you."

"I'm a loving man, you forsaken know-it-all! Merlin, what I have had to put up with you, always trying to show you're smarter than me, always contradicting me. Well, I beat you at chess every time we play, so that shows you who is truly smarter."

"I have always been supportive, never have I put you down -"

"Yes you do; 'Ron, do you want a hand?' 'Ron, you need to do the wand movement like this.' Always saying how I'm wrong."

"I was trying to support you and help you do those basic wand movements required in your Auror training so you are not always the last in your class to be able to perform them."

"Well, you can stop now. I don't need a stuck-up all-knowing wife."

"Well, that's just grand because you won't be getting one."

"Good, it's about time you changed into a quiet, biddable wife. And you'd better improve your wand spells for adjusting clothing from that conservative crap," he said, waving his hand towards her, "I'm not wasting any more money on you."

"You misunderstand, Ronald. Find someone else to date. I'm leaving, you're dumped."

"Don't be stupid, you prude. Didn't you hear me before? I'm the only one who will have you. I've put up with you for six months. It has been hell being with you, and I'm not wasting that effort to have you walk away from me now."

Feeling dizzy from the reeling argument and hurt to the point she felt shattered, her voice was laced with sarcasm and venom as she drawled the only response she could, "Well, I am so very sorry you had to go through that, it must have been truly horrific for you. I'll make it easy for you. Goodbye and good riddance, Ronald Weasley."

"You can't do that," Ron snarled, grabbing her hand and pulling out a tacky ring, "I bought this ring, and Mum expects us to marry. Now put it on so we can tell everyone we are engaged."

Utter disbelief washed over her. He still didn't understand. He was thicker than she thought! How could he think that after everything he had said and done, she would give her life to him? In a dazed state, she shook her head. "No."

Hermione then brushed past him and headed into her room, warding the door closed behind her.

Ron began pounding on the door, "I demand you let me into my bedroom!"

With a sweeping wave of her wand, she packed her books, trinkets, and memories. Another wand movement saw everything given to her by Ron and all her clothes vanished; they were all laced with memories of Ron, and she didn't want to remember him more than she had to.

Glancing around the room, she tried to find Crookshanks. Kneeling down, she glanced under the bed and saw two gleaming eyes watching her.

"Come on, Crookshanks, please come out."

_Hiss._

"I'm leaving Ron, and so need you to come out so I never see him again."

_Meow._

"That's right, away from the ginger oaf who forgets to feed you. You'll never go hungry again."

_Purr._

Crookshanks stalked out from under the bed.

Hermione then cast an impenetrable charm so Ron would not be able to touch her before collecting her trunk and Crookshanks, and storming back through the door and passed Ron, determined to get outside the apparition wards as soon as possible.

"OI STOP, MIONE!" Ron shouted as he tried to grab her. "Hey, what did you do?" Ron snapped as the charm pushed him back forcefully. "I demand you accept my offer of marriage. You could, after all, be pregnant already. I've been slipping you fertility potions for a week."

Hermione gave him a venomous look. "How dare you attempt such a thing when I repeatedly said I don't want children yet, you selfish little troll," she hissed before flicking her wand at him and sending a cluster of giant spider crabs after him. As he ran away screaming, she shouted, "Oh and just so you know, I've been letting you win chess for three years. It is, after all, the only thing you're mildly good at!"

She stepped out of the wards and apparated into Diagon Alley.

A quick visit to Gringotts had her bank account closed before she left through the Leaky Cauldron and took a cab to the airport.

She was going to find her parents in Australia; a long overdue task she had put off, first due to waiting for the Death Eaters to all be convicted, and then later for Ron.

While at the airport she wrote to Ginny and her other friends:

_ I'm sorry to say goodbye like this, however Ron and I have broken up, and I find that now is the opportune time to start searching for my parents in Australia. I've put it off for far too long and am missing them both terribly. _

_After I find them I might travel for a while. I'm unsure when I'll move back to England, but will let you know when I do. If you are ever in Australia let me know, I would love to see you; an owl will be able to find me._

_Take care of yourself and good luck with everything._

_Please keep in touch. I'll miss you!_

_Love always_

_Hermione_

Although to Harry's she also added an additional line:

_Ron and I had a bad fight before I left, and I sent a cluster of spider crabs after him for something he did (I won't tell you what as I don't want to come between the two of you) but you had best go and save him. I daresay he has forgotten that a simple spell can disappear creatures created by a spell._

She posted the mail before purchasing a plane ticket and heading through customs and security. Her plane didn't leave for three hours, and as she sat in the airport lounge watching the planes taking off and landing, she allowed the last few months to wash over her. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks, slowly at first before they turned into a steady stream and she began to hiccup.

"Oh darling, what's wrong?" came an elderly voice.

Hermione looked up, and through the blur of salty water, saw a round, older lady with a concerned look. At the caring look, she just dissolved into her misery even further. The lady sat down next to Hermione and held her tightly.

"It's okay, my dear, you just let it out."

Hermione then explained everything, careful to keep it muggle friendly. She began by saying that she had been a soldier in a situation and had joined covert operations, been captured and tortured, come home to parties and testified in military courts, which she thought were corrupt. Her failure to get a job to help people. Then she told her about all Ron had done and said; explaining about his lies, manipulations, attempts to force her to become pregnant, and his cruel comments and expectations. A sense of relief swept over Hermione as she spoke about what had happened, and she began to calm down.

"You're well rid of him, dear girl, and you are far too young for all of that. See the world first, experience its joys, and find out who you truly are. That's what I did and I have never regretted it. It's time to be adventurous and bold."

Hermione offered the lady a wobbly smile, and the lady grinned in return.

"Now, how about you come and have a cuppa with me, my dear. Tea will help. We might even Irish it up for you."

Hermione spent the rest of the time waiting for her flight with the lady, talking about the lady's experiences; she had done and seen amazing beautiful things.

Leaving each other with a hug and a wave, the kindly old lady had given Hermione back some faith in the good of people and she was ready to find her path on her own… as soon as she found her parents.

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**Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed chapter 1. **Thanks as always to my awesome beta reader NJ Coffee Queen!****

**Reviews are a life force upton themselves and **constructive feedbak is always much desired**- so pretty please leave a review. **


	2. Chapter 2 - Finding the Wilkins

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter etc, please don't sue me!**

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Recap:

_Hermione spent the rest of the time waiting for her flight with the lady, talking about the lady's experiences; she had done and seen amazing beautiful things._

_Leaving each other with a hug and a wave, the kindly old lady had given Hermione back some faith in the good of people and she was ready to find her path on her own… as soon as she found her parents._

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**Chapter 2 – Finding the Wilkins**

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Landing in Sydney, she smiled at all the 'Welcome' and 'G'day' signs at the airport. Her spirits lifted at the friendliness. Stepping outside, the sun shined positively and a warm breeze brushed her face.

She jumped on a train into the city and soon found the idyllic Opera House situated by sparkling blue water, its white orange slices shape reflected the sun with a quiet beauty. Sitting down in one of the waterside cafes with a mocha in hand, Hermione pulled out her laptop, and after connecting to the WiFi, she started to search for dentists with her parents' false name, Wilkins.

A smile of delight slipped onto her face when she quickly found their practise listed in Sydney's wealthy North Shore area.

She typed up an email requesting an appointment with either Dr Wilkins for as soon as possible. She only had to wait thirty minutes for a response, which said they would stay open a little later, and give her an appointment that afternoon at 4:30 pm (two hours from now). The email had a side note that if anything major needed to be done, it would have to wait until a later appointment as the receptionist/assistant left at 5 pm. Hermione grinned at her luck and quickly sent an acceptance for the appointment; if she could extend the appointment until after the assistant left then this might be far less complicated than otherwise.

Hermione asked a passing waitress for directions to a good shopping place. She really needed to freshen up after all those hours on the plane, and a new set of clothes would be nice given she had vanished all her clothes when she was upset. It was an action she did not regret in the slightest, despite the predicament it now caused; all those clothes reminded her of Ron, in some way or another, and she didn't want to relive the memories every time she saw the items.

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Two hours later, Hermione's breath shook as she released it. She was standing outside her parents' dentistry trying to summon the courage to see them. She knew initially it would go smoothly, they, after all, did not know who she was, but they would most definitely be upset when they had their memories returned and learnt of her betrayal.

Another three breaths and Hermione lifted her chin and pushed open the door.

Thud.

Hermione flushed as a receptionist looked at her through the glass door. Glancing down, she bit her lip as she saw the bright door sigh which dictated 'Pull' in big bright letters. Hermione yanked open the door and shuffled self-consciously towards the receptionist who was obviously trying to hide amusement; although it was quite clear in the glittering eyes.

"How can I help you?"

"My name is Hermione Granger. I have an appointment at 4:30 pm with Dr Wendell Wilkins."

"Hmmm, yes here you are. You are a new patient?"

"Yes."

"Great, I just need you to fill out these forms before the appointment," the receptionist said with a smile, as she handed over the clipboard with a few forms and a pen attached.

Hermione filled out the forms quickly before handing them back to the receptionist, who took them with a quick 'Cheers' and smile.

As she waited to see her dad, Hermione went over the plan in her head.

"Hermione Granger?"

She glanced up and saw her dad smiling at her. Hermione's stomach dropped as she realised there was no love in his eyes. Berating herself for hoping that somehow he would recognise her, she smiled in return. "That's me. Thank you so much for giving me an appointment this afternoon. I really appreciate it!"

"Please come through, and you can tell me what's wrong," he replied, leading the way to his room.

He gave her a check-up and removed a light build-up of plaque. "Your teeth are in excellent condition, so I'm not sure why you would be feeling any pain. Are you -"

Knock knock.

"Come in," her dad said.

The receptionist poked her head around the door. "Sorry to interrupt, Dr Wilkins, I'm just letting you know that I'm heading home. I'll lock the front door after me."

"Thanks, Jackie, see you tomorrow," he replied and the receptionist disappeared once more. Turning back to Hermione, he started again, "Sorry about that. Now, are you sure you have had the pain for four days?"

Hermione heard a door in the background close and the sound of a lock. She sat up. It was now time to tell him.

"Doctor, you are right, it hasn't been four days. In truth, I lied to you, however it was for a good reason. I needed to see you and your wife as soon as possible to let you know something of vital importance."

"Wait, what? I don't understand, I don't know you. What could you possibly know of such importance that you need to lie to see me?" He had pushed his chair away from her and was watching her as one would a predator that had somehow escaped its cage.

"I'm sorry, and this won't make much sense, so I just need to do this," Hermione replied, pulling out her wand.

He eyed the stick. "Listen Miss, clearly you are a little disturbed. Let me just call -"

"_Finem Obliviate_," Hermione said in a controlled voice as she waved the wand at her dad.

He slumped in his chair, blinking haphazardly. With a loud gasp he sucked in air, then moaned, holding his head tightly, as though in pain. Hermione's research had suggested that this was likely, but until he remembered her, she couldn't do anything for the pain.

A few minutes later, in which all Hermione could do was wring her hands and assume the worst was about to happen, his hands began to loosen their grip. He lifted his head, looking at her nervous face.

"Princess?"

"Yes, Dad, it's me."

"What happened? I feel like I've had the strangest dream. And where are we?"

Like a Band-Aid, she reminded herself as she took a steeling breath. "I'm sorry, Dad, it wasn't a dream. You really did forget me and move to Australia for the last two years. I made you forget so you wouldn't be tortured and murdered for being my parents."

"What? You did this on purpose? You made me forget about you? And what's this about murder?"

"I'm sorry, Dad," Hermione whimpered. "Do you remember the conversation we had before you forgot me? It was about the war and Dumbledore dying."

"That was real?"

"Yes, that's why I had to do this. I know you might never forgive me, but I love you so much and knowing you are alive and safe, even if-if you h-hate m-me, is much better than knowing I-I'm responsible for your excruc-excruciating death."

"Oh Princess, I would _never_ hate you! You're my baby girl, the light of my life. I can't believe I actually forgot you, surely that goes against nature. I am, however, very upset you wiped my memory. You could have just told us to leave, and we would have, rather that, than making us forget."

"You don't hate me?"

"No sweetie. Now give your old dad a hug," he said, opening his arms.

Hermione dove into his comforting hold, breathing a sigh of relief. She should have trusted her parents would forgive her.

"Did you also wipe Helen's memory?"

"Yes," Hermione mumbled.

"Well, I'd best call her in so you can fix her up. I think it's best I call her in for a consult, so she will sit in the chair, then you can do your wand waving. She won't believe either of us any other way." He sighed, not oblivious that in a way he was doing exactly what Hermione had done when she performed the mind wiping spell.

Standing up, he walked over to the door to find his wife as Hermione sat back in the patient chair.

Helen Granger bustled in a moment later. "Sorry to keep you waiting. My name in Dr Monica Wilkins. I'll just have a quick look; hopefully my husband is wrong in his diagnosis."

"Thanks," Hermione replied.

As Helen sat down and scooted the chair closer, Hermione covertly aimed her wand and said the counterspell. Helen's body immediately slumped forwards out of the chair and onto the ground with a loud thud.

Hermione cringed, sliding out of her chair and onto the floor to check her mum wasn't injured in the fall.

John Granger poked his head around the door and saw Helen on the ground. "What happened?!"

"She fell off the chair when I said the spell. She might have a bruise or two, but otherwise she should be okay. I can fix up the bruise in a jiffy – if she lets me after what I did."

"Hmmm, perhaps don't go pointing your wand at us until you swear to God that you won't cast a spell without our permission on us ever again."

"Yes, Dad. For the record, I swear to God and Merlin that I will never cast a spell without your permission on you ever again – unless it literally saves your life."

John nodded then said, "Step back, Princess, I'll get Helen back in the chair."

A silence descended once Helen was back in her chair. John eyed Hermione's wand until she offered a weak smile and reattached it to the wand holder on her wrist, hidden beneath her shirt.

"So what's Australia like?" Hermione asked.

John wrenched his eyes from his unconscious wife. "Sunny and dry. The beaches are wonderful, and the people are quite laid back. Do you think Helen will be asleep for much longer?"

"Not much longer, it happens sometimes. She will feel a bit of pain for a little while as the memories resurface."

"I suppose -"

Groan.

"Helen," John called softly.

"Ouch, my head is killing me. I just had the worst nightmare, Honey," Helen replied.

"Just take a few breaths, Sweetie. The pain will pass," he replied.

Hermione sat silently, figuring it would probably be better if she waited until the spell had completely worked its magic before announcing herself.

John rub Helen's back while she sat with her head in her lap, arms covering her head as if trying to physically stop the pain from some outside source.

"John!" Helen yelped, head snapping out from under her arms.

"Yes, Sweetie?"

"Where's Hermione?! Oh my God, how did I forget my daughter? Or did I? We have a daughter, don't we?"

"Yes, Sweetie, we do," he said softly, "and she is sitting across the room."

Helen whipped her head around and her eyes widened when she saw her daughter. "Hermione! I'm so sorry I forgot you, I'm a terrible mother!"

"No, Mum, you're not. It was my fault you forgot. I am so sorry, but I did a spell to protect you and Dad."

"What! Why would you do that?"

"Do you remember when I told you about the war and Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Helen responded warily.

"Well, I was known, and that made you and Dad major targets. If I didn't make you forget me and go away, you would have been tortured and murdered for being my parents. I didn't think you would leave unless I wiped your memory. Dad has already reprimanded me for it. I'm so sorry, Mum," Hermione rushed out.

Helen looked at Hermione with wide, hurt eyes. "You didn't trust us enough to tell us, or even ask us to leave? Why didn't you ask?"

Hermione knelt on the ground in front of her mum. "I wasn't thinking straight. A friend's parents had just been killed, and I getting over a close run in with Death Eaters. Everything was in chaos and Dumbledore, who could solve anything, was gone. The whole of the Weasley family were all involved in the war. I-I didn't know who to trust with your lives after that. I reacted without thinking it through properly. I just wanted you to head off as soon as possible, and the spell seemed the only way."

Helen sighed. "I'm disappointed you made the decision without consulting us. You know we believe in always make large decisions as an entire family," she paused, looking at Hermione, "but at least it's righted now. The war is over then?"

"Yes, and all the true Death Eaters are in jail. They can't hurt anyone anymore."

"What… what would have happened if… if you had di-ed?" Helen asked.

"The spell would have held and you would never have known you had a daughter," Hermione replied, shifting on her knees.

"Oh Hermione, you silly girl. Sometimes you forget you are still only eighteen years old. Promise me you will never use magic on your father or me without our express permission."

Hermione offered a shameful smile as she looked her parents in the eye and said, "I swear I will never cast a spell without your permission on you ever again – unless it literally saves your life."

"Okay, now give me a hug. It's been two years since I had one from you!"

Hermione let out a hiccupping sob of relief and stood up into her mum's open arms.

"Thank you, Mum and Dad, you are the best, most forgiving parents someone could ever ask for. I swear I will be a better daughter from now on and not to lie or mislead you ever again."

"We love you too, sweetie, and apart from this mistake, whatever its size, you are the perfect child a parent could want – smart, determined, healthy, a defender of others, caring, and beautiful," Helen said while John wrapped his arms around the two and nodded his agreement.

"Well, I daresay we have a lot to discuss," he said. "How about we head back to our home a few blocks away and spend the rest of the weekend catching up?"

"Oh, it's a long weekend too so we have an extra two days, what with the public holiday and the office being closed on Tuesdays," Helen added.

"That sounds great," Hermione smiled.

The three headed home, ordering home delivery so they didn't waste a minute cooking dinner instead of catching up.

The night was filled with Hermione's repeated apologies for not discussing the issue with her parents before she cast the spell, and finding out everything they had done in Australia.

Hermione told her parents that the last two years for her had been very busy, and it was a long story that she would prefer to tell it in one sitting tomorrow. John and Helen nodded, acknowledging it probably was a long story, and seeing the sadness emanating from Hermione's eyes, they didn't press further than night, or ask who she had travelled to Australia with.

Hermione and her parents headed to bed in the early hours of the morning. Hermione couldn't bring herself to care how much the late, or rather early, night would play havoc with her jet‑lagged body clock. As her head hit the pillow, she felt the stress rolling away as she was once more united with her parents (who had enjoyed the last two years and forgiven her) and for the first time in ages something was going right.

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Hermione woke up late in the morning to the smell of pancakes wafting into her room. Her dad was smiling at her, one hand on the doorknob and a plate of fresh pancakes in the other hand. "Rise and shine, Princess, still your favourite I hope?" he asked glancing at the plate.

"Definitely!" Hermione replied, now wide awake with the prospect of her mum's pancakes. She jumped out of bed with a blanket wrapped around her. "I'll be down in two seconds."

"Okay, but just remember only the early bird catches the worm, and these pancakes smell particularly good!"

"Don't you dare eat them all!"

"You'd better hurry then," he laughed before pulling the door closed, footsteps jogging back down the hallway.

Hermione grabbed her clothes, and after a quick cleaning spell, pulled them on and raced downstairs. An indignant Crookshanks stalked to the fallen blanket, which he had been sleeping on before it was rudely ripped from under him and he found the floor with a very undignified landing, then promptly fell back asleep.

Skidding into the kitchen, Hermione found her mum adding the last pancake to the plate and her dad setting the table.

"Grab the juice from the fridge will you, Princess?" he asked.

"Morning, Mum," Hermione said as she brought the juice to the table.

"Morning, Hermione, did you sleep well?"

"Like a log."

"That's good. Okay everyone, breakfast is ready so grab a seat," Helen said.

Hermione and John had a short tug-of-war over the seat closest to the pancakes before she won by collapsing onto it in triumph. With a grumble, he sat on the only remaining chair – furthest from the soft, fluffy bits of heaven. Hermione offered him a smug smile as she reached for a pancake.

After enjoying the first family breakfast in an age, they cleaned up the kitchen and Helen, casting a frowning glance at her daughter asked, "Weren't you wearing those clothes yesterday?"

"Oh, umm, yes," Hermione replied.

"Did you lose some luggage? We can go to the airport to sort it out today, if you like," Helen offered.

"No, I didn't bring any spare clothes, just the things I thought I might want in the future."

"Hmmm," Helen replied, "I'm going to refill the tea and get some carrot and celery sticks, then how about we sit outside by the pool and you can start your story?"

"Okay," Hermione said, face downcast at the thought of everything circling outside her immediate view. As she recalled how much talking to the stranger had helped, she lifted her chin, knowing that talking to her parents would help her even more. She had promised to be honest with them and so she would be. No matter how much she thought it would upset them, it was not her place to protect them; protecting them by hiding information would just hurt them more in the future and be an insult, she was the daughter after all.

Hermione followed Helen outside, John already sitting in the chairs overlooking the view of calm ocean. Hermione took a deep breath of salt-tinged air. Then she began to explain everything, stopping only when John moved to and fro from the kitchen to bring more food and drinks out.

Helen's and John's expressions went from mixed horror and pride at what had happened during the war and Hermione's determination and success, to indulgent smiles at the accolades she received, to concern about the legal process, outrage at the slights Hermione had from the jobs, to fury when they heard about Ron. Hermione had never seen her usually relaxed parents so incensed; if Ron had been in the house she doubted he would survive, wand or not. It actually made her feel a little better to see them both so mad on her behalf, and relief coursed through her as she realised they didn't share Ron's views of her and fully supported her actions.

It was dark by the time she had finished her story, although she knew her parent's seething anger at Ron and the wizarding world lasted much, much longer. In truth, Hermione realised the anger would probably never disappear completely towards either; the latter for having a seventeen year old fight a war and be tortured, and the former for the pain he had caused their child.

Tired of talking and dealing with her emotions, Hermione suggested they watch a movie, and so she settled herself onto an armchair, Crookshanks on her lap, while her parents curled up together on the loveseat, watching a comedy from her childhood that they all knew word for word.

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The next morning, Hermione woke early to the sound of birds. She had a bubble bath to start the day, then pulled her clothes back on after yet another cleaning charm, and wandered downstairs to find her dad pulling fresh croissants out of the oven.

"Morning Princess, how are you today?"

"A bit better actually."

"Good. Helen's just getting ready and will be down soon. She was hoping she could take you shopping today for a new wardrobe," he warned, knowing Hermione usually hated shopping.

"Actually, that sounds really nice," Hermione responded, happy for some normalcy and some different clothes.

"I'm glad to hear it, because we have much to buy," Helen said from the kitchen door. "I have two years of birthday and Christmas presents to make up for."

Hermione smiled as John handed her and Helen a bagged croissant and tea in a flask. Helen kissed John on the cheek then grabbed Hermione's arm and steered her out the door towards the car.

Taking Hermione to the local shopping precinct, which was huge, she said with a sparkle of glee in her eyes, "Let's start at the top and we will wind our way through every store to the lowest level. I bet I can outlast you!"

Hermione smirked, "I'm well aware of how you use challenges to manipulate me, but today I accept."

Helen gleefully clapped her hands together, and with a little jump, bounced towards the first store. Sparse and bright, it promised to be expensive.

Four hours later Hermione and Helen were relaxing in soft seats, with tea and toasted sandwiches, and a large pile of bags at their side.

"Okay, so we have a few more stores to go on this level, then we should have all the basics. I was thinking after that we should head to the high end stores and pick you up some items for special occasions and nights," she said with a wink.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Her mother, having missed needing to worry about Hermione's first serious relationship, was now determined to help her move on to a fun and relaxed relationship with someone new; anything to forget Ronald Weasley and reboot her daughter's damaged confidence.

"Mum, I don't know -"

"Well, I do," Helen replied sternly, then with a softer smile, "I just don't want you to believe anything he said."

"I know, but I just need some time to myself first. You know what would make me really happy?"

"What?"

"We go back upstairs to the one store we didn't enter."

"Of course. I would have taken you there before we left, I just didn't want to have to carry a ton of books around the building for the rest of the day," Helen replied and then drained the remnants of her tea. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Onwards and upwards," Hermione replied, jumping to her feet and pointing upwards.

With a laugh, the two collected the bags and headed to the last few stores on the ground level before a quick trip to drop the bags at the car and headed to the massive bookstore with empty hands.

Hermione drew in a deep breath as the smell of books permeated the air, the promise of peace of knowledge soaked the atmosphere. Hermione glided around the store as Helen perused the self-help section (for 'getting over men' books), choosing a few to give her daughter, and then searching for some low-sugar cooking books and a new autobiography to read.

She turned and saw a person holding a tottering pile of books. With a smile, she headed towards the person, assured in the knowledge that it was her daughter.

It was.

"Planning on ever leaving the house again?"

"I can read outside," Hermione replied, a smile in her voice although her face was hidden from view.

Helen grabbed six books, allowing Hermione's eyes to peak over the top of the pile.

"Thanks, Mum."

"Okay, well let's get these books, and then we have only a few stops until we get home."

"We're not going straight home?" Hermione asked with a sad glance towards the books.

"Not yet, first we are going to get a mani/pedi, then facials, before we get you a new haircut and maybe eyebrow wax."

"Do we have to?"

"Yes," Helen said with a firm, patient tone.

"Humph."

"Oh, come on, it will be fun."

"Hot wax is not fun!"

"Well, maybe not, but a new look is. Now that you are in a new country it's time for a few changes – just try it out and see what you find."

Hermione thought back to the lady in the airport, and with an air of determination, she replied, "Let's do it."

Helen and Hermione arrived home late that night to the smell of a roast dinner cooking.

"There you are. I thought you had both run off without me!" John called when he heard the front door open.

"If you like, next time you can join us for manicures," Hermione called.

"Oh hell no, your mother convinced me once – someone trimming my nails and then making them shiny was just weird… the massages are okay though. Honey, did you want me to book us a massage next week?"

"That sounds great!" Helen replied, dragging bags through the door.

"Anything left in the shops?" he asked.

"One or two items, although I think the bookshop is now out of everything," Helen replied with a cheeky grin.

"Hey! I only bought nineteen books!"

"What restraint, Princess! So, heading back in a week when they are all finished?"

Hermione poked her tongue out in response to her dad's question before she dragged the bags upstairs to her room.

**.**

**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2. Thanks as always to by awesome beta reader NJ Coffee Queen.**

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**Thanks to LittlebigmouthOKC for the review and all those who have made a favourite of my story. **

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**What do you think of the story so far?**


	3. Chapter 3 - Hermione the healer

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, etc, please don't sue me!**

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**Merry Christmas! I thought this we be a good gift to you all. **

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**Thanks to wintersong1954****, LittlebigmouthOKC****, TasmiaFay****, luzhasswag**** for the reviews. They really make my day!**

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Recap:

_"Hey! I only bought nineteen books!"_

_"What restraint, Princess! So, heading back in a week when they are all finished?"_

_Hermione poked her tongue out in response to her dad's question before she dragged the bags upstairs to her room._

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**Chapter 3 – Hermione the healer**

After her parents returned to work, Hermione did indeed spend five days straight reading through the nineteen books she had bought. All the books centred on the topic of legal systems around the world.

She had also been thoroughly reading _The Daily Prophet_, but in the last few days they had been printing some horrible articles about her. Hermione scowled at the latest:

**_Hermione Granger_****_:_****_ Murderous Adulterer_**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_That's right folks, Hermione Granger is a murderer! _

_Yours truly found out the truth when, determined to inform the valued readers of this great paper, I interviewed Molly Weasley. Mrs Weasley confirmed that the 'heroine' of the Golden Trio, Hermione Granger, broke her fiancé Ron Weasley's heart when she aborted a baby the two had desperately __been__ trying to have. Ron Weasley, the youngest Weasley son, was a successful war hero and member of the Golden Trio. _

_The would-be grandmother was devastated and fighting tears when she confessed that, "Dear Ron and that attention-seeking Hermione had been taking a fertility potion to try and conceive, but Hermione just up_ _and_ _left Ron one day without warning. I'm certain she was pregnant. Obviously she was cheating on Ron, and aborted the innocent child when she realised it wasn't Ron's. My son has been devastated by the betrayal of his fiancée, not to mention the murder of his first child."_

_Ms Granger has refused to comment, but this reporter can tell Mrs Weasley is telling the truth. Since the muggleborn girl's school days, where she led on a smitten __Viktor__ Krum and Harry Potter at the same time, it has been clear that she seeks attention from deserving wizards, before leaving them on the sidelines when she finds someone else. _

_Clearly Mr Weasley has made a lucky escape, and we witches must count our lucky stars that he is once more single and safe from Ms Granger's malicious designs. Hopefully he can find __solace__ in an upstanding and faithful witch. _

_Merlin help the next __unfortunate__ man to be entrapped in Ms Granger's selfish and calculating talons._

_For further details about Ms Granger's deceitful history, see pages 5, 7, and 12._

With a snarl, Hermione scrunched the paper into a ball and threw it at the door. Unfortunately, Helen had just opened the door, and the newspaper missile hit her in the chest.

"Oomph!"

"Sorry Mum!"

"Oh, that's okay. Is this that wizarding newspaper you used to get?" Helen asked, picking up the paper.

"Yeah," Hermione muttered.

Helen smoothed the paper out carefully, however, a quick glance at the title had her almost ripping the pages apart, as her fists automatically tightened in anger. "What's this rubbish!"

"Rita Skeeter, being her delightful usual self. You know she has hated me since I got revenge for her articles in my fourth year."

"Hmmm, yes, I remember those. And you haven't even been offered the chance to tell you side of the story – such irresponsible journalism. Can you owl her, or her editor, or something?"

"And say what? A Weasley is lying? No, I know Harry or Ginny will put them straight. Those two know the truth and will stand up for me. The paper will do whatever Harry says, being the Golden Boy and all. I just need to give him time to act; the articles have only been occurring for a few days."

"If you're sure…"

"I am, Mum. Don't worry, Harry will come through for me; he acts like my unofficial brother!" Hermione smiled, thinking of how he used to defend her in the halls against the Slytherins.

Helen scrunched the paper back up, a satisfied, therapeutic feeling tingling through her as she felt it crumple between her fingers. She then tossed the paper to Crookshanks, who began batting it with great wrath across the room. "I swear that cat knows what the paper is saying about you."

"He does. He has magical abilities."

"Really?!"

"Mm. He is also an excellent judge of character. I suppose I should have twigged when he never liked some of the Weasleys. I just figured he didn't like them because they weren't cat people."

"Maybe we should have Crookshanks and your dad assess every boy you meet before you date him," Helen said with a grin. "Speaking of which, I have a friend who is coming for dinner tomorrow, and she has a son at university who she is bringing along."

"Mum, no blind dates, please!"

"How else are you supposed to meet people?"

"No, Mum. No blind dates. I'm serious. Look, give me a bit longer, okay?"

"Fine, no blind dates. But they are already invited and coming tomorrow, so wear something nice," Helen replied, determined to distract Hermione from the article Crookshanks was now shredding with his teeth.

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Hermione spent the following weeks going to the beaches and parks. She even took a quick trip up to the Great Barrier Reef to go snorkelling with her parents – books in tow, of course. The only downsides were that none of her friends had sent her any owls, and Rita Skeeter was still publishing horrid and cruel articles in _The Daily Prophet_. Hermione bit her lip in anticipation when she saw an owl flying towards the window, hoping for a letter, but dreading another article.

Her parents had suggested she take legal action against _The Daily Prophet_, but she was sure it would just get worse if she did. They then tried to tell her to cancel her subscription, but she didn't want to. There were other important and interesting articles which she would miss if she cancelled, like the one published about the rescinding of house elf rights; some ridiculous nonsense saying house elves could not survive if freed, and, as such, all free elves would be sold back into service. Hermione thought the change to the rights was disgustingly cruel!

The owl swooped through the window, and Hermione tentatively reached out when she saw the newspaper in the owl's talons. Paying the bird a knut from her pocket, she then removed the wad of parchment. Unfurling it, and glancing at the headline, she dropped the paper in shock. Leaning heavily against the wall for support, she slid to the ground. Hermione dragged the paper closer with the tips of her fingers, blurred eyes focused on the title.

**_Ron Weasley: Engagement of the Century_**

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Happiness has, at last, made its way to the well-deserving Ron Weasley, successful war hero and member of the Golden Duo (alongside best friend Harry Potter)! _

_Yesterday, to yours truly in an exclusive interview, an elated Ron Weasley announced that wedding bells were in the air. He said that his romantic proposal had been accepted by the sweet and intelligent Lavender Brown, a fellow Gryffindor and war heroine, who works as a successful witch beautician. _

_"The heart of my life agreed to marry me last night after I took her to a romantic dinner under the Eiffel Tower in Paris. We portkeyed home immediately to share the news with our loved ones. This is the happiest news since I helped win the war. I am sure I will be very happy with my beautiful fiancée," Ron Weasley said. _

_Mrs Weasley has informed me that she is delighted that her youngest son has finally found a worthy witch to marry (unlike his previous fiancée who tricked him into proposing and lied to the wizarding world about her role in the war). Mrs Weasley said, "I am delighted to welcome another daughter into the family."_

_The future Mrs Lavender Weasley has confessed that she intends to leave her job to ensure she can raise her child in a loving family environment. She is confident that her husband-to-be can earn more than enough for the two of them and their baby. Lavender confided to me that she, and her fiancé, are expecting a healthy son in 5 months._

_"We didn't want to tell anyone about the baby until we were well passed the dangerous first trimester," Lavender whispered to me, while a devoted Ron rubbed the bump on her stomach with fondness._

_Ron confessed that, "I have loved Lavender for a long time. We were school sweethearts. Hermione forced me away from her, with muggle tricks and magic. Fortunately, Lavender and I are now reunited, and we will be happy forever."_

_There you have it folks, a true love story has been saved from a tragic end. The two star__-__crossed lovers are to be united forever on 14 February, the most romantic of days._

_I will keep all my loyal readers posted on baby and wedding news as it unfolds over the next few months._

Hermione just sat on the floor staring at the paper until her legs were numb. Crookshanks had crept quietly next to her a little while ago, his head resting on her lap as he purred softly.

Due in five months.

That meant four months pregnant.

The cheating bastard.

Cheating for at least two months.

How could he be so cruel to flaunt it?

And so shameless.

She dug her fingers into the paper, and slowly started to shred the parchment, forcing her nails through the flimsy material and pulling it apart. Faster, and faster, until she was in a frenzy. Then came the tears, running unchecked down her face before splattering around her on the wooden floor as sobbing hiccups shook her frame. Pieces of confetti surrounded her in a mound by the time she was spent. Her sobs changed to gasps as she fell forward towards sleep.

Helen and John came home from work to find their daughter still lying in the snowy mountains of paper in the dark. Realising it was the same parchment as the horrid newspaper, they concluded it was the remnants of another article by Rita Skeeter. Given the state of their daughter, and the paper, they would have to ask Hermione what it said later.

"I could kill that Skeeter woman," John growled, heart wrenched by the sight of his hurt teenage daughter lying on the ground.

"Can you carry her up to bed, John?" Helen whispered.

"Sure, can you open her bedroom door for me?" he replied softly.

"Yes."

They carefully took Hermione to her room and laid her in bed. Crookshanks followed, watching them warily, ready to protect his upset witch. John and Helen crept quietly out of the room, worry gracing their faces. Then they headed downstairs to prepare some comfort food for Hermione, in case she woke and was hungry.

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Hermione did not wake that night.

In fact, she did not wake until 1 pm the next day.

Glancing around, she realised that she had been moved to her room. She wavered for a moment, wondering if she should get up and face the day, or just hide in the safe warmth of her blankets.

Picking up her wand from the bedside table, she gave it a wave and let music immerse the room. Morose tones wafted through the air, encouraging tears to spring into Hermione's swollen eyes. She flopped back onto her pillow and watched the light from outside playing on the walls.

Crookshanks appeared at the door, slinking in quietly. He was followed by a sombre Helen.

"Mum? What are you doing home?"

"I took a personal day. I wasn't going to leave you alone after yesterday. What can I get you to eat and drink?"

"I don't want anything."

"You haven't eaten in a long time. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Your heart might be telling you that, but your stomach must be saying otherwise. I'll be back in a moment with something for you," Helen replied, swiftly gliding out the door.

"You let Mum know I was awake, didn't you, Crooks?"

_Meow_.

"Humph. Did you have to?"

_Meow_. The cat pounced onto the bed with poise.

Hermione reached forward and rubbed behind his ears. "I'll be fine."

Crookshanks just stared at her, clearly disagreeing with her statement.

"But I promise if you see Ron, Molly, Lavender, or Skeeter you can scratch them. How's that?"

_Meow_.

"Thanks for sticking by me, Crooks. You are the only friend who has."

_Purr_, he replied, touching his nose to her hand.

"I love you too, Crooks."

The door swung open again and her mum came through. "Here we go, I've brought you some hot chocolate and toast. Don't tell your dad about the hot chocolate," Helen said with a soft smile, as she placed the tray of food on Hermione's lap.

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione replied. She lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip of the creamy liquid.

Helen sat down on the side of the bed, leaning into her daughter as Hermione ate a small portion of the food. When Hermione pushed the tray away, Helen wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Was that a newspaper yesterday?"

"Mm."

"An article about you?"

"Slightly."

"About Ronald?"

"Mm."

"Is he with someone else?"

"Engaged."

"That's moving rather quickly."

"Together at least five months."

"Five? But – oh."

"Mm."

"The article said so?"

"She's pregnant with his child."

"…"

"He cheated on me. Even after everything he said and did, I didn't think he would ever cheat on me. And then tell everyone. I feel so stupid!"

"No! You are not stupid! He is a liar, but you were right to trust him. It's just unfortunate that he didn't deserve your trust. You are an incredibly intelligent and street-smart young lady."

"How could I not realise?"

"There was a lot to realise about him, and you caught on to a few of those things. Given there were so many, it's not surprising you missed one or two things. Some men are just like that; never happy with what they have, no matter how lucky they are. He was lucky to have your love, but something was wrong with him – it is never okay to consciously cheat on your partner."

"Maybe it was me…"

"No! It was _not_ you! This is all on Ronald. His actions and decisions have _nothing_ to do with you. Do you understand?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm serious, Hermione. Look at me." Helen waited until Hermione looked into her eyes. "Ronald's actions and decisions have nothing, _absolutely nothing_, to do with you. Yes?"

"Yes. Thanks, Mum," Hermione sniffled.

Helen gave Hermione a squeeze.

"Now, what are you going to do about that newspaper?"

"I'm cancelling the subscription when the owl arrives today," Hermione replied.

"You sure? You said you wanted it for some reason or other."

"I'll get the information from somewhere else, if I really need it."

"And are you going to let Ronald waste more time of your life?"

"You're right. I'll stop moping in bed and playing sad music," Hermione said, as she leant over and, with another swish of her wand, the music changed from morose to righteously angry.

After a few moments, Hermione pulled out of her mum's arms and stumbled out of bed. Grabbing some fresh clothes, she quickly changed in the en suite, and when she re-entered the room, she said, "Okay, time to have some fun."

Helen smiled. The small fire that had been missing from her daughter's eyes since she arrived in Australia was rekindled. It was small, but it was definitely there. "So where to?"

"The car. We are going rock climbing."

"Ummm, up h-high?" Helen asked.

"Yes. It's about time we both conquered our fear of heights."

"It's more a fear of falling - which is completely logical, as our primitive ancestors slept in trees, and the fear of falling helped them survive."

"Then we only need to be as competent at moving at heights as our ancestors."

"They had opposable toes!"

"And we will have harnesses. Come on, Mum, do this with me. Pleeease?"

"What about a movie about heights instead?"

"Come on, Mum. Pleeease? I want to do this. First steps to changing my life… excluding the new hairstyle and clothes."

"Your hair is lovely now, much more manageable. Why, a day in bed and it's only slightly frizzy. That sleeking lotion really does change it into soft, lavish curls, and it brings out the shine in your hair too. You know, I thi -"

"Mum."

"Hmm?"

"Stop stalling, and come rock climbing with me."

"Fine," Helen huffed. "But only because I love you."

"I love you too," Hermione said with determination as she pulled Helen out the door.

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Two weeks later, Hermione had successfully gone rock climbing, visited theme parks and ridden every roller coaster (and screamed loudly every time she felt her body lift from her seat), parachuted, and flown a plane. On the last, she made a mental note to never jump out of a plane immediately before she intended to fly a plane; that specific mix made seeing the ground from up high, in a rickety plane, rather terrifying.

Next, she was going to ride a broomstick. Well, once she found someone to teach her. She had looked into the wizarding world in Sydney, finding it was more widespread than London (which was surprising, considering the smaller population of Australia compared to Britain). She figured she could find a person to teach her once she started her new job.

She was to start training for the job tomorrow. Hermione felt as though dragonflies were flittering around her stomach at the thought of starting the training. The job was her first since leaving school. A proper adult job, and a huge step. She was joining a healer program in the Royal Sydney Hospital. The hospital actually had wizarding and muggle components; this allowed easy movement of patients between the two parts when a muggle or wizard was injured in the opposite world.

Hermione thought the dual purpose hospital was a great idea. The wizarding side told the muggles that they dealt with very specific highly infectious diseases, which meant the muggles never went near the wizarding part of the hospital. Occasionally, when a muggle with one of those specific infectious diseases was transferred to the wizarding area, a quick _Obliviate _and reassignment to an alternate muggle hospital rectified the problem.

Hermione pushed away the books detailing magical and muggle healing that she had been studying from, allowing her thoughts to turn to the previous night. She had gone on a blind date (after much pushing from her mum) with some muggle son of someone her parents knew through work. The pair had gone to a movie, which was followed by coffee. He was very sweet, but he had red hair, which meant that every time she looked at him, his face would morph into Ron's.

She grimaced at the awkward end to the night when he tried to kiss her. Hermione had turned her cheek at the last moment, eyes darting to the ground in awkwardness. Feeling guilty, she explained how his hair colour reminded her of her ex. He had jokingly responded that he had bad genes and was likely to go bald, so could dye his hair until that time. Hermione recalled her weak chuckle and less than eloquent dismissal before she had all but leapt through her parents' front door to escape.

This morning when her mum had asked how it went, Hermione had said, "He has Ronald's hair colour."

Her mum had quickly replied, "To be fair, I think he is older than Ronald, so really it's _his_ hair colour." Hermione had sent a withering stare at her mother before Helen has said, "Okay, no redheads in the future."

"No future blind dates full stop. As of tomorrow, I have to concentrate on my training."

"Fine," Helen had grumbled. Helen had then pulled out her organiser to replan the dinner she had been going to arrange, which included some other friends with single son. "But don't forget, you need to take some time off studying to have fun and live."

"Yes, Mum."

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When the sun blinked over the horizon the next morning, Hermione burst from bed with the energy of a puppy chasing a ball.

Crookshanks, previously having been a happily sleeping cat, was not quite as fast and landed on the floor with a thump and snarl; his witch was making a very annoying habit of this. He glared at her reproachfully.

Hermione, however, did not notice. Grabbing the clothes hanging on the wardrobe door, she headed into the en suite and began her morning routine.

Finally dressed and feeling fresh, she emerged in a billow of steam. Hermione then skipped towards the kitchen, to grab some yogurt and fruit, before she headed to her first day as a trainee healer. Her parents arrived in the kitchen half an hour later as she was heading out.

"Morning Princess, excited?" John asked.

"Yes!"

"Good luck today," Helen said. "We will see you when you get home, unless you go to celebrate your first day with new friends."

"Okay, I'll let you know if I do. Love you! Bye!" Hermione called as she bounced out the room and towards the front door, calling out, "Bye Crooks!" as the door closed.

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Hermione tried to calm her nerves outside the hospital. Having a flashback to the day she found her parents, it occurred to her that she really needed to stop standing outside health buildings breathing heavily; it was just weird.

Striding confidently into the wizarding entrance to the building, Hermione walked in and headed towards the receptionist. "Excuse me, I'm a new trainee healer and I start today. Can you tell me where I need to go?"

"Name?"

"Hermione Granger," she replied, waiting for the flicker of realisation; hopefully they didn't read _The Daily Prophet_ in Australia.

With a blank look the receptionist ticked a name off a list, and glancing up, he replied, "Take a seat in the far north corner. As you are an hour and a half early, you will have to wait for someone to come and get you at 8:30 am."

Hermione felt her face heat up in embarrassment as she mumbled, "Thanks."

In the corner she found herself seated next to a man reading a medical book.

His eyes flickered over her. "You don't look sick," he said.

"I'm not. I start healer training today," Hermione replied.

"So do I. My name's Peter Loch, I guess we'll be in training together."

"Hermione Granger," she replied with a smile as she shook his hand. "You're here early."

"So are you," he replied with an amused smile.

"Yes, first time getting here. I didn't want to get caught in traffic and be late, that and I was too excited to sleep. What's your excuse?"

"I came in with my dad, he's a Healer. He started an hour ago."

"Oh… it must be great having him to talk to about the training and such!"

"I suppose."

"My parents are muggle dentists, so despite being somewhat medical, I can't learn the magical aspects from them. Although, they have been great at giving me advice on handling patients. Have you always wanted to be a healer?"

"It was always kind of expected, so I suppose I've never thought of anything else. I did kind of want to be an auror, but a few years ago, when I suggested it to my parents, a war was gearing up back in merry old England. Given that my parents thought it was a bad idea, they thought I might get sent over there if more forces were needed."

Hermione's mind reeled. Would that have been a possibility? Why hadn't the Ministry sought help from other countries?

"You have an English accent, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm from Hampshire," Hermione replied.

"Was the war a big deal? There were a few things reported in the papers here, but being so far away it wasn't that big an interest item, I guess."

"It was a big deal. A lot of deaths and destruction. As far as I know, no one from other countries was involved in fighting," she offered.

"Huh, maybe I should have stuck with being an auror," he mused before carelessly asking, "Did anyone you know die?"

Hermione looked at him in shock. She had just said a lot of people died! "Yes, I knew a lot of people who died," she snapped, unable to stop her emotions from rising to the surface.

He looked abashed. "Sorry."

Hermione realised that despite him obviously being a few year older than her, a war made people grow up a lot and changed their perspectives considerably; she could never imagine anyone in England asking such a careless question… except maybe Ronald, who spoke without thinking on a regular basis.

"It's fine," she said, determined not to drive away someone who would likely be a colleague for a long time. "The war ended less than a year ago, and most magical folk of age were involved in some way or other. Maybe this is a topic we can just not mention again."

"Sure thing," he said nodding enthusiastically, eager to be forgiven for his guff.

"So, any insight from your dad about how many people are in the training group?"

"Umm, it's usually about 20 people recruited each year. Most healers in the country are trained in this hospital. After training, they are sent around the country to posts they volunteer for. This hospital tries to keep the trainees with the most potential after we become certified. Healing is quite competitive, with long hours, and needs smart people. So girls usually choose something less complex."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

He did not really just say such a sexist thing to her did he?

Yes, he did.

Right then.

"So which of those criteria do you think women are incapable of? Is it the stamina, intelligence, or competition?" Hermione asked.

"Err."

"Evidently that response rules out intelligence. So stamina or competition?"

"Look, I don't want to argue with you…"

"There goes competition. Which leaves stamina. Guess I'll just have to prove that my stamina far surpasses yours, unless you would like to retract your sexist comment and promise to never speak in that way in public again."

"Oh come on, no girl is ever the top of this training."

Hermione's eyes glinted - she would be. "I guess the selectors are just as sexist as you. Pity that's the case in such a clearly skill based profession. You know what? To make up for your utterly sexist comment and lack of apology, you are going to help me ensure this hospital becomes less sexist."

"Or what?"

"Or, I'll work to embarrass you and your skills so thoroughly during this training that you'll either volunteer to work somewhere else or have to run to daddy to save your ass."

A throat cleared near her. Glancing around Hermione saw and man and woman watching her and Peter with wide eyes. Hermione raised her eyebrow challengingly at them. She had done nothing wrong, except maybe alienate herself from one of twenty people, or more, depending who Peter was friends with.

"Well, this isn't awkward at all," the woman said with sarcasm. "I'm Jemma Jones."

"I'm Hermione Granger," she offered. Hermione took in Jemma's appearance - Jemma looked very cool, with purple coloured hair resting on her black framed glasses. She was tall and slim, and obviously fit. The only drawback was her glinting eyes… they showed anger.

Jemma turned to Peter. "And you are?"

"Peter Loch."

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**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed Chapter x. Thanks again to my amazing beta reader NJ Coffee Queen.**

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**Any events you want to read about in the story?**


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